The three men nearly tumbled over each other to get through the doorway into the bitter cold outside. As they emerged from the cabin the gaze of the guide swept the surrounding hills.
“There he goes!” he cried.
“Get him!” said Carnes sharply.
Walter ran forward a few feet and dropped prone on the ground, cuddling the stock of his rifle to his cheek. Two hundred yards ahead a figure was scurrying over the rocks away from the cabin. Walter drew in his breath and his hand suddenly grew steady as his keen gray eyes peered through the sights. Carnes and the doctor held their breath in sympathy.
Suddenly the rifle spoke, and the fleeing man threw up his arms and fell forward on his face.
“Got him,” said Walter laconically.
“Go bring the body in, Carnes,” exclaimed the doctor. “I’ll take care of the chap inside.”
“Did you get him?” asked the voice eagerly, as the doctor stepped inside.
“He’s dead all right,” replied the doctor grimly. “Who the devil are you, and what are you doing here?”